


Moments Remembered

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Murdoch Mysteries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-14
Updated: 2008-12-14
Packaged: 2018-01-25 04:54:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1632590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He would find that one could not dismiss Doctor Julia Odgen easily  not even in thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moments Remembered

**Author's Note:**

> My First Yuletide! And the first ficathon I have ever finished weeks in advance AND well over the required word count! 2,780 words according to Word 2000. Thanks to my betas: bets_cyn, groovekittie, and pixie_on_acid.   
>  This story is moments in time, from the point of view of either Dr. Ogden or Detective Murdoch, or both. The first two moments are remembered by both, with Dr. Ogden going first, followed by Detective Murdoch, the last two are by Dr. Ogden only.
> 
> Written for bossymarmalade

 

 

Julia could still picture, clearly, the moment they met. She'd been called to the scene of three bodies - the constable sent to fetch her would tell her no more. She saw him across the field; he'd been reaching into the pockets of a dead man. She took off running to stop what she thought was a scoundrel taking advantage of a situation. She'd read accounts of people robbing the dead, but she never thought she'd ever witness such an atrocity, let alone so blatantly committed.

"Just what do you think you are doing, sir?" she demanded, dropping her medical bag on the ground. Her words caused him to look up at her and into her blazing eyes.

His voice had been calm, as though he were regularly accosted by women over a dead body. "Checking the body for identification, ma'am. Do you require assistance?"

"The only assistance I require is for you to step away from my body, sir. I am certain the Detective will be here soon," Julia informed him in a voice that brokered no room for disobedience - a trick of voice she had learned from her father.

"Detective William Murdoch, Toronto Constabulary, at your service." He stood and took in the medical bag at her feet. "Doctor Ogden?"

"Doctor Julia Ogden, Toronto Medical Examiner." She nodded and felt the blush creeping over her fair skin. She was watching his eyes and saw the split second of shock slide through them before he offered his hand and they shook. She'd been waiting for it - she had grown accustomed to it - but with him she ignored the slight because he was talking again.

" - three bodies. This is the father. Mother is inside and son is hanging behind the house."

"A family? All the constable who came to fetch me would say was that there were three bodies and nothing more."

"Indeed, a family, it appears. At least that is what the child who discovered the bodies told us. She has not said much more." 

Julia turned to see the child where he pointed her out. "How is the girl, Detective?" Julia watched the child, shying from contact as anyone came near her. "Do we know who she is?"

"The child appears to be in shock, which is understandable, as it was she who discovered the bodies and she is only around seven years of age. She won't speak - even to tell us who she is or where she came from."

As much as she wanted to examine the bodies and begin to piece together what horrible event happened here, the child was more important. The bodies could wait a few moments. It wasn't as though they were going to leave. "May I try?" She turned back to him and found him studying her.

"I would appreciate it. She needs her family." He nodded and returned to the body.

She left him then, knowing he'd find her later. She took her bag and moved to the child. It was precious moments later, but Julia was able to get the child to tell her where she lived and a constable was sent to fetch her family. Julia itched to examine the bodies she already thought of as hers, but the child, once shunning all those around her, now refused to let her go.

"I see you have gained a friend, Doctor," a voice spoke behind her, one with which she was fast becoming familiar.

"It appears I have. Florence, this is Detective William Murdoch. He is a good man and you need not be afraid of him." Julia smiled first at him and then down at the girl in her arms.

"Do you know the 'Lady with the Lamp', sir?" Florence asked softly.

" _Lo! in that hour of misery a lady with a lamp I see pass through the glimmering gloom, and flit from room to room._ " William quoted.

At his words, Julia looked up at him sharply, surprised that he knew _Santa Filomena_ by Longfellow. Even today, the depth of his knowledge and reading amazed and intrigued her.

"Florence Nightingale. A great poet wrote those words about the brave lady who continues to help many. Is the good doctor telling you about her?" The detective spoke directly to the girl.

"Yes. She has my name. And made people know that you should keep clean so you won't get sick." Florence nodded to him. "I don't think boys know that, though. She should tell boys. My brothers never wash when mamma tells them to."

Julia smiled at the child's serious tone.

"You are a boy, though, Det - det'cive Murdoch. How come you know?" Florence tilted her head and looked at him, stumbling over his title.

Julia couldn't hold back the laugh at this. "Boys grow out of such silly things, Florence. Most of the time, at least."

Florence looked from her to the Detective. "Really?" She looked unconvinced.

Detective Murdoch chuckled. "Yes, Florence, they do. And I believe your mother is here." He gestured to a woman running towards them.

Florence wiggled out of Julia's arms and ran towards her.

"She will be all right," Julia spoke, watching the girl be encircled in her mother's arms.

"But you will stop by when you can to ensure that."

Julia looked over at him, surprised he could know that.

"You took care of her instead of simply ignoring her to study the bodies." He told her and picked up her bag. "I'd like you to start with the boy."

And from then on it was back to business. It was after she completed her post-mortems on the three bodies that she learned his suspicion - after she voiced it first. On that cold, snowless morning of March 12th, a boy of eleven had killed his father, then mother and then took his own life.

He remembered the moment they met with perfect clarity. He'd been reaching into the pockets of a dead man and she'd demanded to know what he thought he was doing. He looked up at her words and found an angry, beautiful woman standing over him. 

He gave a slight pause at thinking her beautiful. He hadn't thought that about any woman since he'd met Liza. Objectively speaking, though, she _was_ beautiful. 

He decided it was best to end this misconception he'd allowed to continue for moments too long already. "Detective William Murdoch, Toronto Constabulary, at your service." It was only then that he noticed the nature of the bag she had dropped - a medical bag. Obviously, she was the medical examiner a constable had been sent to fetch. He wondered if she noticed the surprise that slipped through his eyes when he had realised who she was.

She'd clearly not known he was a Detective of the Toronto Constabulary. And he'd made matters worse by not knowing she was the new medical examiner. That was a mistake he never made again - the fire in her eyes had only brightened. He wondered from whom she'd learned to command.

"So far we have found three bodies. This is the father. Mother is inside and son is hanging behind the house."

It had not surprised him that she was concerned about the child. The war he watched being waged in her eyes - to see to the child or the dead - had surprised him. He could tell she was eager to start her examination of the body before her, but in the end, the living had won and she moved to the child.

He'd examined the other two bodies - confirming the identification as mother and then son - before seeking the doctor out again. She was still with the child and he had to smile as she told the girl about a woman named Florence - Florence Nightingale. It was a fitting reference and one the child would enjoy and get lost in.

He hadn't expected her to introduce him to the child, or for the child's innocent questions, but he relished them simply because it meant the girl was no longer seeing the dead she had stumbled across earlier. He couldn't hold his chuckle when she asked so seriously for confirmation that boys grew out of silly things. Dr Ogden's laugh was something he would grow accustom and look forward to hearing, but at that point he had forced himself dismiss it.

Soon after, he noticed the woman rushing towards them, and instinctively knew it was the child's mother and wanted to end the intimate moment. He tried to return the focus to death. It was easier to deal with than the living - except he had known she would ensure that the child suffered no ill effects from her discoveries today and he had mentioned as much. He would find that one could not dismiss Doctor Julia Odgen easily - not even in thought.

He'd let her tell him later that the boy had killed his father and then mother before hanging himself that day. He's already suspected as much, but her exam had shown his thoughts held the truth.

* * * * * *

She could remember when she realised they were more than just colleagues - it had been the first time he had teased her and when she learned the extent to which he liked to tinker and invent.

"Bloody hell!" She cursed as the lights went out for the third time in two hours. She was behind. Detective Murdoch was going to come wanting the results of her examination and she was loath to disappoint him. She had been sure no one was around to hear her say such a thing.

"Doctor Ogden!" His voice told her she was wrong in her belief that she was alone. "Such language from a lady." There was laughter in his voice.

She twirled to face him, happy for the darkness that hid her red face. "You would appear just now to tease me, Detective. I am afraid this post-mortem is taking much longer than anticipated. I simply cannot do an examination when I cannot see what is in front of me!" She shook her head and smiled at his teasing.

"I believe I might be of help with your dilemma. Permit me a few moments?" He waited for her agreement. "Then I shall return shortly."

He returned only five minutes later with Constable Crabtree and two large black boxes.

He and Constable Crabtree set them up and she could not help but gasp when her work area was illuminated as if it was daylight.

"That is amazing, Detective! Where did you get such things?" Julia asked.

"I invented it so that we could work crime scenes in the dark and not loose valuable evidence." She was surprised to find his cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment at his words.

"Well, they are marvellous, Detective! I shall have my post-mortem done soon with these!" Julia smiled and got to work immediately. She bit her lip as he watched her work - nervous for the first time under his watchful eye.

As much as he had tried to stop it, they had become friends - a fact he'd realised the first time he heard her curse and he couldn't stop himself from teasing her. He knew life had to go on after one lost a loved one, but he had tried his hardest to stop it. Logically, he knew it was illogical - or really, sentimental - to want to halt the world from moving on. But to his mind, Liza's death was too recent, although months had now gone by, and he could not let her go.

He'd come into her morgue to see how the examination of their latest body was coming when the room had plunged into darkness. He knew she hadn't known he had come in, which was why he had heard her exclaim, "Bloody hell!"

His own words were out of his mouth before he could recall them. "Doctor Ogden! Such language from a lady." He did manage to silence the chuckle that wanted to escape. He was sure, if he could see her, that she would be red from embarrassment at being caught.

He'd needed an escape then and the darkness had allowed him a reason to go. He fetched Constable Crabtree and together they brought the lights he had invented to her morgue. That would allow Doctor Ogden to finish her examination and he could get on with the business of solving the crime.

But, as she usually managed to do, Doctor Ogden turned the tables on him when she praised his invention and to his chagrin, managed to make _him_ blush.

It had been that moment - where he felt comfortable enough to show her his invention and blush at her praise, combined with his teasing her - when he'd known they had become more than just simple colleagues and were friends. Later he'd come to realise that it was also the moment when he had begun to let Liza go.

* * * * * *

The first time she heard his rigid beliefs, she sighed, even as she was amazed a man of science could hold such beliefs. Later, when she, herself, ran headlong into those rigid beliefs, she was annoyed with him and only called him Detective - a departure from her occasional William - but he didn't seem to notice. She walked away from him in the middle of him speaking to her and did not think even _that_ signalled to him how upset she was.

She was proved wrong later, when he asked her, "Doctor Ogden, have I said something to offend you?" She had been leaning over the body they had found earlier today, examining something closely.

She had not cooled enough in her temper to look at him. "Detective, if you would like your results soon, please leave me to conduct my examination in peace." Her tone was civil - barely.

He blinked at the restrained tone of her voice - she could see his reflection - and watched him as he left. She sighed, knowing he didn't understand why she was so upset with him. She had come to realise that this was too personal to explain, even to him. 

Over the rest of her examination, she felt her anger begin to dissipate. She was still a bit cool to him when she delivered her results; a day later things were mostly back to normal between them.

* * * * * *

She knew she was in trouble a year and a half after they met. This time she didn't wait for him to say anything before she asked Constable Crabtree to help her transport the body back to her morgue. She doubted he even noticed when she left with the body; he was too busy with the lady of the house.

She waited until Constable Crabtree had left before cursing. It wasn't ladylike and she wished he was there to tease her like before, but he wasn't. She refused to let the tears fall. She had vowed long ago she wasn't going to be one of those women, and she was not going to start now.

This time she took the coward's way out and left the results on his office desk when she found him not in. She was still green with jealousy and the fact he was out talking to the now widow of the dead man did nothing to help her temper and hurt.

Instead of crying or throwing things - which she truly wanted to do - she began scouring her morgue spotless, knowing her anger and hurt were better buried in work that was productive.

Beethoven's Ninth Symphony was at a crescendo when he entered, so she never heard him. She had no idea he was there watching her for five minutes before he turned off the phonograph.

When the music cut off abruptly, she spun to face the phonograph and found him there, watching her. Her hands went immediately to her hair, knowing much of it had escaped the braid she'd plaited this morning. "Detective Murdoch! You startled me. Was there something you needed?"

She met his eyes as he silently watched her for a few moments more, knowing he was confused at the fact that she had called him Detective Murdoch instead of William, something she normally did in this setting.

It was he that broke the silence. "I am sorry I was not there to receive your results. I had a few questions, if you have a moment?"

"Certainly, Detective. What is it you had questions on?" She kept it business, still too hurt to be more than politely courteous.

* * * * * *

It had taken some time, but she'd learned to better control her feelings in regards to Detective William Murdoch of the Toronto Constabulary. As she learned more about him, she better understood the idiosyncrasies that had made him into the man she had come to love.

And those memories were the ones that she loved to share - the ones that showed the reality of their friendship and later, their love. 

 


End file.
